Out of the Closet
by Wobbly Pumpkin
Summary: Violet walks in on her guardian acting very strangely. She hides in the closet to spy on her but what she finds will change her forever. Dubcon, VioletxEsme


Violet Baudelaire crept through the penthouse apartment of 667 Dark Avenue in the dead of night. She had awoken from a deep and uneasy sleep over an hour ago and had finally decided to set out into the mysterious home of Esme Squalor in search of something which might take her mind off her anxieties. She hadn't been expressly told that she wasn't to leave her room at night but Jerome had strongly advised her to keep to her own space. That had been before he had been called away from the city to some business in the north. The Baudelaire orphans felt a lot less comfortable in the apartment now they were alone with Esme herself. Aside from her obsession with fashion, she forced the children into a very strange schedule of chores and tasks, none of which as bad as those forced upon them by Count Olaf, but un-enjoyable nonetheless.

She was passing the door to Esme's bedroom when she heard a strange noise from within. There were whispering voices, and a wet, sucking noise which Violet thought sounded like kissing. Had Jerome returned without her knowing? That made little sense from the state of their relationship.

The eldest Baudelaire lid closer to the door and pressed her ear against it. She could hear the kissing sound louder now, along with heavy breathing. As Violet moved against the door, trying to get a better angle, it shifted away from her and she almost fell. The door swung open to reveal a large minimalist bedroom with a few mirrors and a row of full length wardrobes along one wall, and a king-size bed on another. The wall facing the bed was taken up with a huge HD television which was displaying film of a man and woman deep in the throws of passion.

The woman was naked from the waist up, her jeans undone and pulled down half over her backside, revealing pale, unblemished skin. The man was stood over her, sucking ferociously on her neck while his hand moved in and out of her pants. As her rubbed her she was bucking against his hand, each thrust sending ripples across her breasts. The woman's eyes were hazy and unfocused, her bright red lips hanging open in ecstasy.

Violet stood rooted to the spot, unable to move from her position in the doorway. Her mouth was dry and there was a peculiar twisting sensation in her stomach. As she pulled herself out of the initial trance and went to back out of the door she caught sight of a movement in the mirror.

Esme was laying on the bed, spread-eagled with her head thrown back and her hand between her legs.

She was completely naked.

The Baudelaire guardian was gasping for air as she massaged the slit between her legs, two fingers spreading the lips and a third plunging in and out. In the light of the television, Violet could see a glistening liquid coating her right hand. The left was grasping at her breast, pawing at the nipple which was hard and pointed.

As Violet watched, Esme began to move faster, moaning and shutting her eyes. Her chest was rising and falling at an alarming rate, the unattended breast bouncing eroticly in the half-light. Violet shuddered and realised she'd been holding her breath.

Shaking herself, Violet stumbled backwards, running back to room as fast as possible. Her pounding footsteps were muffled by the deep carpets and she closed her bedroom door with shaking hands. She sunk onto the bed and tried to sort out what she had seen. She knew the scene which had played out before her was strange and twisted, this woman was acting as her guardian for christ's sake, but Violet could not deny that the sight of Esme touching herself has moved something in her.

Cautiously, she lifted the waistband of her pajama pants and examined her own pubic mound. She had more hair than Esme, brown instead of blond, and it was courser and thicker. Her slit itself was red and flushed, beads of moisture hung around the edges. Tentatively, Violet placed her index finger at the apex and gently stroked down the lips.

A wave of pleasure coursed though her and forced a shuddering moan from her lips. Suddenly she was self conscious. Her siblings were asleep next door and she dreaded to think what would happen if they found her as she had found Esme.

She pulled up her pants, noticing a telling damp patch at the crotch, and rolled into bed. She lay there desperately trying to fall back to sleep, hoping that the feelings she had felt were just a bad dream.

Slowly, without even thinking about what she was doing, she slid her hand down her body and under the lip of her pants. Violet buried her face in her pillow to muffle her laboured breathing as her finger traced the lips once more. After a few strokes her uneasiness faded and she began to establish a rhythm, her body straining against the aching pleasure building in her stomach.

Remembering Esme, Violet parted the top buttons of her shirt and tentatively cupped her small breast. She was surprised to find that, like her guardian, her nipple was hard and as she touched it, another source of pleasure sparked within her. She forced her face deeper into the pillow, her muffled moans, rising in both pitch and volume.

Without warning her body shuddered uncontrollably. The hand between her legs was coated in a hot, slippery liquid which soaked her crotch and left her feeling confused and somewhat ashamed. As her breathing gradually returned to normal, she rolled onto her back and tried to calm herself down. Pulling her hand from between her legs she examined the moisture in the faint light from her window.

She was suddenly struck with the strange urge to taste herself. The moisture seemed to call to her and she realised she was lowering the hand towards her mouth. Just as she was about to wrap her lips around her dripping digits and suck them clean, she thought better of it, and wiped her hand on the bedsheets.

In the space of a half hour, Violet knew that she had changed completely, grown somehow, and she felt a desire to repeat the experience. The inventive cogs in the back of her mind began to work on a plan to engineer her way back into her guardian's bedroom.

The next evening Violet crept out of her bedroom once more. This time she knew what she was getting herself into. She was hoping that Esme would repeat her exploits from the previous night but this was her last chance before Jerome's expected return. Violet carried with her a flash-light, for use in making her way back to her room through the dark house, and a pillow, as she wasn't sure how long she was going to have to stay in her hiding-place before Esme arrived.

Checking the coast was clear, Violet slipped into Esme's room making for one of the large wardrobes along with a full view of the bed. She climbed inside it and attempted to make herself comfortable among the strange clothes which filled it. All day she had been picturing herself here, touching herself along with Esme. Even the idea of it was stirring the feelings within her.

But after almost an hour in the cramped closet, with no sign of the woman she was waiting for, Violet was beginning to get nervous. What is Esme came straight in and went to bed, or worse, what if she watched a film or read? Violet could be trapped in this wardrobe all night! What was she thinking, creeping around a strange place to spy on a woman she barely knew in her most private of moments.

Violet had to get out of there. She pushed open the door just in time to see the bedroom door moving. She closed it hurriedly just in time to hear Esme's footstept enter the room. She peered cautiously through the gap in the doors and saw Esme looking straight at the door she had just closed.

The eldest orphan froze in fear. She was about to be discovered and there was nowhere to run, no cover story to possible explain why she was hiding in the closet, watching her guardian. She waited in pure horror for the woman to throw open the door and find her.

But Esme didn't open the door. She walked past the door out of sight and appeared a few minutes later, now dressed in a silk dressing-gown which perfectly displayed her figure. From this angle Violet could really appreciate the woman's figure. Through the neck of the gown, she could see the curve of a breast, the nipple peaking the fabric slightly. Esme had removed her make-up but her face seemed to shine of it's own light, her hair forming a frame around her features.

With a flare of light across the bed, the TV lit up once more. Esme shrugged off her gown, revealing to Violet the full glory of her chest and the smooth curves of her stomach. She wore a thin pair of cotton panties which hid the part of the body Violet most wanted to see again. She was desperate to see how Esme got started, whether she was rough with herself or got straight into the heat of the moment.

As the film started (Violet heard some sort of conversation between two women) Esme began to move. She stoked down her chest and across her stomach, pinching her nipples as she passed. Violet followed her head, over the pajama shirt, dipping under to cup her breasts. Her breathing was beginning to get heavier as the feelings in her belly began to return, and she forced herself to control her outbursts.

Esme dipped her hand to cup her sex though the fabric of her underwear, letting out a gasp of pleasure as she did so, a smile spreading across her usually stern features. Violet was smiling too, her apprehension wearing off, leaving just the feelings surging through her. Taking her eyes off her guardian for a moment she watched her hand slide back between her legs, carefully stroking herself slowly to stop any outburst that might give her away.

As she looked back to Esme, she saw her push her hand under the thin material to create greater friction against her lips. Her eyes opened wide and she let out a long moan which spurred Violet on. She ground against her own hand, pulling the material of her pants down over her ass to give her better access.

After pushing what must have been at least three fingers into her slit, Esme cried out and tore her panties away from her sex, rolling onto her side and cocking her leg, giving Violet an even better view of the dripping mound, blushing lips being pushed and grinded against. Violet allowed herself a small gasp of pleasure as she pushed a finger inside of herself. The warm dampness of her sex felt unbelievable against her hand.

Violet pulled more buttons open on her top, gripping her tit so hard it hurt but she didn't care. As she rocked her finger in and out of herself she felt the pleasure building higher and higher. She closed her eyes in ecstasy and flung her head back against the closet wall. She arced her back as she pounded into herself, over and over until she cried out with the pleasure.

She was nearly there, this was incredible, she was coming up to the greatest orgasm ever...

The door was flung open before Violet even had a chance to react. A hand seized her by the throat and yanked her out of the wardrobe, pinning her against the wall. Esme looked into her eyes with an expression of pure evil.

"Is the ickle Baudelaire about to come over me?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet. It sent a chill down Violets spine and would haunt her forever. She was very aware of her exposed sex, still covered in her wetness, and torn open shirt, revealing her breasts, coated in a sheen of sweat.

"How about I give you a hand eh love?" Esme smirked, lowering her free hand to between Violets legs. Before she could stop her, Esme had plunged two fingers into Violet's cunt, bending then upwards to they hit straight into her most sensitive point.

Violet cried out as she came all over Esme's hand. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel tears in her eyes from the pressure at her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't fight back. Esme was incredibly strong and was pinning the orphan so that her feet barely touched the ground.

"I think you've been a bad girl tonight Violet," Esme's simpering voice still delivered straight into Violets face. "And bad girls need to be punished."

With that she threw Violet across the room. She landed half on the bed, her face smashing against the mattress. Before Violet could speak, Esme had pounced on her, trapping her under the older woman's weight.

She could feel her guardian's bare ass sitting on her back as she lay sprawled across the bed, bare ass on show. Esme slapped her backside. Hard. Violet was sure there would be a mark, but before she could begin to hope that this was the end of her punishment, she was spanked again.

The smacking came thick and fast, sending vibrations through her sensitive area and sparking some of the feeling of pleasure again. Violet felt sick; she was being punished for a disgusting act of self-indulgence and was enjoying it.

The mattress provided a small amount of friction against her clit and she pushed against it, desperate to alleviate the pain from her ass. It became clear that Esme could see this as she chuckled and slowed her assault, rubbing her sensitive cheeks.

"Well aren't you an interesting one." Esme cooed, "We are going to have some fun tonight."

"Esme please," Violet panted, forcing her face up from the sheets. "I just want-"

"Oh I know what you want," Esme exclaimed, rolling Violet onto her back and straddling her chest, peeing down at her between her breasts. "You want me. And you've got far more than you bargained for."

"I can't-" She was silenced by Esme covering her mouth in a deep and passionate kiss.

Violet was completely taken aback by this display of affection so soon after the brutality of her punishment. She smiled into the kiss and reached up to grasp the older woman's waist. She felt Esme's hand stroking down her side, her thumb rubbing against Violet's sensitive nipple. Violet opened her eyes as Esme parted a lock of hair from her face.

In an instant, Esme had withdrawn from Violets mouth. She looked up at her confused and gagged as Esme forced her discarded panties into the orphan's mouth. She tried to spit them out but the woman pulled what appeared to be Violet's ribbon from behind her, tieing it around her mouth, gagging her. The fabric tasted salty, and was still warm with the Esme's wetness.

"Oh, honey, honey, honey." Esme purred, twisting Violet's hands from her waist into rope ties which must have been concealed among the tangled sheets. "You really never learn to behave youself."

She stood back from the bed and pulled a cord at the head of the bed. The ropes snapped taught, pulling Violet back across the bed and hanging her in the middle, her arms spread wide across the headboard. The shirt had fallen open exposing her breasts, and her pants had fallen down to her knees, tangling around and trapping her further.

Violet writhed on the bed, desperately trying to get away from the madwoman standing over her. It was only now that she noticed what Esme had been watching while touching herself earlier. A girl in her twenties was suspended from the ceiling by ropes on her wrists in the same way as Violet. Her legs were chained to the floor and her hair hung loose around her face. The sound had been turned right down but Violet could see that she was sobbing. The reason for this became clear as her tormentor came into view.

The second woman was blond, dressed in a leather corset which bulged around her ample breasts, with a long leather riding crop in her hands. She struck fast and caught the girl between her legs, right on her clit. She gasped briefly before the whip struck again and again, each strike eliciting further pained outbursts from the girl in chains. There was also something mixed in her expressions, something Violet was worried might have appeared on her own while she was bent over the bed.

The second woman moved around the first and Violet caught a glimpse of her face. She recognised the torturer at once.

It was Esme.

"One of my finer works don't you think." Esme walked back into view, back in her silk gown, hanging open provocatively, and carrying the whip from the video. "I used to be quite the dominatrix but I've fallen out of practice recently. I think you'll be a great way to get back in the business."

The crop traced it's way over Violet's neck, down her collar-bone, stroking over her breast. Violet stared at her, pleading with her eyes...

The whip slashed down on her sensitive tit and Violet writhed still harder. Every crash of the whip sent new pain shooting through her. Her arms were burning with the strain of the ropes and her hair was flying about her wildly. Her legs kicked out and managed to work their way out of her pants, lashing out against Esme's attacking hand.

For a moment, she escaped the assault of the crop, before Esme's cold hand grabbed Violet's jaw. She settled between Violet's legs, keeping them apart and under control. With a mocking coo she stroked Violet's face, wiping off some of her sweat. Seductively she licked them clean and placed her and on the orphan's aching breasts.

Her hands movements over the aching flesh was relighting the fire in Violet's belly. She shuddered and tried to shrink away from her. Esme mealy shushed her, licking a trail up from the flushed skin to her neck, ending with a nibble on her pulse point. Violet closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the feelings overwhelming her.

Esme moved back slightly, lifting Violet's waist from the bed. She had stopped trying to resist now, accepting what was going to happen to her. Esme's tongue licked across her damp lips, tasting the moisture which was coating her mound. Violet trembled as new pressure built in her stomach, the feeling of the hot muscle moving across her lips felt unbelievable and she found herself pushing against the dominatrix's lips despite herself.

Esme slipped a finger between her lips and wiggled it against the spot which she knew sent Violet over the edge. The eldest Baudelaire felt herself coming apart in the older woman's mouth and she was terrified of what insanity might come next. The whip was on the bed by her foot and she remembered Esme's treatment of her 'guest' on the TV.

Thought's of further potential torment were driven from her mind as she reached her climax once more. Esme dropped her back on the bed as her orgasm hit, watching Violet's cum pool around her ass.

She dipped her hand in the wetness and scooped it onto the handle of the whip. Violet realised what she was doing and began to tremble. This was far beyond anything she had expected from tonight and she remembered her tightness from last night and dreaded feeling the girth of the handle inside of her.

She pleaded with Esme though the gag but she paid her no attention. Once the handle was thoroughly lubricated with Violet's juices she lowered it to press against her entrance.

"So if you're not OK with this Vi, just let me know." Esme chuckled.

The handle pushed into her and Violet felt like she was being torn apart. She screamed against the panties in her mouth and writhed wildly against her ropes. Esme smiled and pulled the handle out, the bumps of the grip rubbing against her clit.

Tears formed at the edges of Violet's eyes and she desperately tried to think of anything but the pain in her groin. This became impossible as Esme slapped the aching lips six times in quick succession before thrusting the handle back into her sex.

Despite the lubrication, the width of the improvised dildo burned her as it pounded in and out. Esme kept up the slapping, bringing further pain and, to Violet's disgust, uncontrollable pleasure. Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, her moans muffled by the gag but still sounding out through the bedroom.

When she felt like she couldn't take and more Esme withdrew, leaving Violet with a aching need for release, despite the pain in her tortured lips. She met the dominatrix's gaze as Esme sat back, the tip of the riding-crop in her mouth.

"How would you like to make a deal with me Vi?" Esme asked, twisting the lubricated whip through her hands. "You give me a little of what I gave you," she touched her lips and tapped Violet's clit, eliciting another shudder. "And I won't strike your cunt with this whip until you cum for me..." She lent closer and placed the whip against Violet's cheek. "Twice..."

Violet hesitated for a moment, trying to out-stare her tormentor... And then nodded.

"Wonderful!" smirked Esme, reaching out to untie the ribbon. Violet spat out the panties and breathed deeply, free from the taste of Esme's wetness. "Did you enjoy tasting me there Vi?"

Violet panted and met her gaze, hatred filling her eyes.

"Go to hell."

"Hey now, you don't want me to forget my deal now do you?" Esme purred, lifting Violet's chin with the whip.

"So are you going to let my hands down now?" Violet asked, keen to get it over with.

"Oh no my dear." giggled Esme, "You won't be needing those for what I have planned."

Realisation dawned on Violet's face as she realised what she was being asked to do. She had no idea how to pleasure a woman with her mouth, let alone how to do it with her hands tied behind her back, knealt twisted on the bed.

Esme released the ropes slightly and layed backwards, her legs spread wide exposing pink lips and a cropping of blond hairs. Violet bent forwards, lowering her face towards the glistening slit. She paused for a second, willing herself to lick the thing she'd been thinking about all day.

Before she could move Esme had grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her down into the folds. Her nose pressed up against the older woman's clit and she felt her buck upwards. Violet pushed out her tongue and tasted the hot, sweaty skin around Esme's mound. She pushed upwards and found the salty entrance.

Violet pushed further, trying her best to send Esme over the edge. As her tongue found it's way into the folds she found herself becoming aroused again. The aching from the whip still made her drip for release and this was only making things worse. How could causing pleasure to the woman who had beaten her feel so good?

Esme gasped and pressed Violet deeper against her. She bucked upwards and wrapped her legs around the orphan's head. Violet couldn't breath, she tried to reach out to part the thighs which were crushing her. Her mouth went into overdrive, kissing, sucking and licking for all she was worth.

She pushed her tounge as deep as possible and felt Esme's lips clench around her. Hot, salty juices covered Violet's face and she fell backwards. The eldest Baudelaire looked down on Esme, her chest rising and falling, and her hair a mess, as though she had been gripping it hard.

"Well then," Esme sighed, trying to compose herself once more. "It seems I've got to let you go. We'll keep this between ourselves and if I ever catch you in my closet again you'll be getting worse than the whip."

She untied the ropes at Violet's wrists, revealing red marks where she'd pulled against the ties. Violet staggered to her feet, uneasy with the pressure in her stomach. She was still naked from the waist down and her shirt was in tatters.

Violet made her way to the door, not even caring that she was a mockery of her former self. At the doorway she turned back to the room, seeing Esme packing up her restraints and the final scenes of Esme's film on the TV, the two women kissing passionately, free from their bondage.

"Esme?"Violet stuttered. The older woman looked up at her, surprised that she was still in the room. "Could you just... finish me off one last time?"

Esme smirked, her charisma coming back in a flourish.

"You might want to brace yourself honey..."

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Violet from behind. Her left hand found Violet's nipple and tweaked it gently. The orphan leant her head backwards and caught Esme in a kiss. Esme's other hand stroked down Violet's stomach and cupped her sex.

Violet closed her eyes as Esme bent to suck on her pulse point. The two of them rocked together as Esme brought the eldest Baudelaire back to her climax, two fingers pumping in and out, bending against her clit with each stroke. As Violet reached her peak, Esme lifted her onto her tip-toes, putting all of her weight into the friction on her sex.

As Violet climaxed for the last time, she cried out in sheer pleasure, the warmth of her orgasm washing over her. She kissed Esme goodbye and made her way back to her room, dressed only in her torn shirt. The breeze brushed against her lips as she re-entered her room, a sense of satisfaction sweeping over her. She might have to make her way to Esme's closet again.

Klaus stood in the doorway of his room. He had been woken by some sort of cry from down the hall and had peered out in time to see his sister walking back from Esme's room, a smile on her face and her clothes all but ripped off. His eyes were drawn to her face where he could see what appeared to be cum, smeared all over her mouth, nose and hair.

She had been acting strangely all day and Klaus thought it was about time he found out why. Tomorrow he would follow her in secret and find out what was going on. He wondered why he was feeling a strange sense of attraction towards his sister, and he couldn't get the image of her glistening lips out of his mind. This was certainly one strange weekend.


End file.
